The Leaky Triangle
by Crystal Lee Author
Summary: AU/AR Ginny/Draco Ginny POV. Ginny swore to her dying husband 3 things she'd never do. After breaking the first 2 promises, she now fights hard against the third—loving another. The Bermuda Triangle's leaky reality beckons, and so does Draco. FAGE4


**FAGEtastic Four**

**Title: The Leaky Triangle**

**Written for: Leni (Linara Philips)**

**Written By: Crystal Lee**

**Rating: T**

**Summary/Prompt used:**AU/AR Ginny/Draco Ginny POV. Ginny swore to her dying husband 3 things she'd never do. After breaking the first 2 promises, she now fights hard against the third—loving another. The Bermuda Triangle's leaky reality beckons, and so does Draco. FAGE4 (more of the prompts info in the A/N at bottom)

**THE LEAKY TRIANGLE**

"You can't do this!" I told myself as I took the scariest steps imaginable.

There were three things I swore after I buried my husband of only ten days.

First: I promised him I would not avenge him.

I had already broken that promise twice by removing people from my path to get that sweet justice I deserved.

Second: I promised I would never use magic again. The renegades using magic were always caught and killed. Exactly why I planned to use magic, but on my terms, in my awant ways.

Third: I promised I would never love or marry again. Harry didn't want to hear that, but I said it regardless of how he felt.

How could I ever love another? I had loved Harry since I was ten years old. It was something I didn't ever question—I felt it and did what felt natural.

When he was dying in my arms in our little apartment I knew I would be breaking all of those promises except the last one.

Killing got easier over time. I stopped caring, stopped thinking; just did it. It was an automatic instinct.

It was what kept me going.

My family was all gone. Each of them had been unable to defend themselves without the aid of magic. And when the Death Eaters came and used their magic illegally I wasn't there to help them. I was a newlywed on my honeymoon.

We got the call right before our flight back home.

Harry insisted the house fire was an accident.

But I knew it was murder. Everybody knew the Death Eaters were still plotting, eliminating and terrifying those of us that were now helpless to stop them.

Most likely Draco's father was in charge. Somebody like him was used to power, and was not about to give that up simply because Harry evaporated Voldemort into dust.

Things didn't get better after that. They got worse.

The entire magical world was in a sheer state of chaos. Nobody knew if they could trust their neighbors, their cousins, their friends. Who would be the next to lash out for revenge since so many died in the battle?

The magical world was now an underground, archaic rebel cause. I wanted nothing to do with them. Their ideals were ridiculous to me.

They wanted to return to the old ways where we were all kept secret and remained segregated from normal society.

Clearly, that didn't work before. Why would it work now? I wanted to continue living with muggles. I belonged with them. I felt at home there; safer somehow.

The magical world never really felt right for me. I longed to be a normal girl, a powerful girl, with my own destiny I could choose for myself.

If it hadn't been for Harry, I would have left years ago and struck out on my own.

With Harry's last wand in my pocket, I took a few more hesitant steps.

It was not an accident Draco's old wand, Harry's previous victory, was found lying outside in the burned fields.

I knew exactly who was responsible, and this was the reason Harry asked me to let it go.

Yeah, that would happen the day I stopped breathing; not before.

_The wand might not work. What are you going to do then?_

I ignored the churning deep in my belly. Self-defense classes would come in handy if magic failed me.

I fumbled at the doorknob, turning it quietly.

Draco lived only a few blocks from me in London.

It was a decent neighborhood, but not the posh, ostentatious type dwelling I figured he'd own. Wasn't he currently running the Death Eaters and giving them orders? Their leader always had the most opulent house. It looked so normal from the outside. This was it? The place they'd bring me for torture once they captured me?

Nobody told me—I knew I was number one on their hit list.

Best to kill before being killed . . .

The door opened easily and my breath stuck in my throat like it was glued there.

I was almost queasy. Not because the place was disgusting, but because I was oddly attracted to ridiculous things like the very masculine, citrus-musky smell of the place.

I broke out in goose bumps from it; from the memories of the few times I actually confronted Draco his final year in school five years ago.

I was fifteen, he was seventeen, and even then, I didn't understand the odd looks he'd given me in passing.

"He's not here; stop worrying," I berated myself quietly.

My shuffled steps made no sounds as I edged my way down the hallway to his bedroom. If there was evidence he killed my family and Harry, it would probably be hidden there. I was always good at discovering hidden things. I had to be in my house growing up since the twins were constantly taking my stuff and hiding it.

I silently opened his door, but the quiet serenity ended when I gasped at seeing . . .

"What the hell?" I cried.

There was a picture of me.

And not just any picture. It was my bridal photo I took that I never showed a soul.

It was supposed to be a gift to my mother that she never received—this rather large, expensively framed photo mounted on his wall. How did he get his hands on it?

I stood, mouth gaping open at this monstrosity of a picture above _his_ bed.

My hands twitched, begging me to pull it down and burn it now since he soiled it.

But why . . . ? Why was it here? And what did this mean?

My eyes began to water.

_Don't cry!_

_I'm not! It's because my eyes were open so wide and unblinking—they got dry. I'm not crying at all!_

I wiped the moisture from the corners of my eyes.

Dammit! I should have made a fourth promise when Harry was lying at death's door that I would never cry again. I hated being so weak.

I crept over to the picture, carefully removed it from the wall and exited without looking for any evidence.

This was all I needed right here—proof he was out for my family.

My picture above his bed was nothing more than a daily reminder to him of the one that got away. The woman he would hunt down if it took him the rest of his days.

I rounded the corner to my block and almost got ran over by two ambulances racing down the street.

When I looked up to see where they were going, I spotted my apartment building lit up. There was smoke curling thick and heavy like a thief's gloved hands about to steal the last bit of life I had left.

"No!" I screamed.

All of my photos of Harry, my journals, my letters from my family while I was at school were now gone. My memories were gray dust now, like Voldemort.

I slammed my back up against the building next to me, slid down the wall and curled into a ball, bawling so loud it drowned out the sounds of the sirens. There was no telling how long I sat there weeping.

And then . . . Something bumped into my foot.

I thought maybe somebody walked by, unaware I was there and accidentally nudged me. Or maybe the picture I dropped was what hit me.

It didn't matter either way. They could run over me for all I cared.

I tucked myself into a tighter ball, refusing to watch the rest of my world flit away into the sky.

Out of nowhere hands were around me, lifting me, but before I could look to see who was carrying me, a soft song was sung in my ear.

Song? Harry never sang to me.

It was an old lullaby magical mums sung to put their kids to sleep. I was unconscious before the second stanza was murmured in my ear.

"Ginny . . . My ginger-girl," Harry whispered.

I chuckled. He liked to give me silly nicknames that involved my hair color because he loved the deep red hues.

Warm, solid arms were hugging me, making it all okay.

"I missed you," I cooed.

My head buzzed. It hurt, but at the same time it was kind of an exhilarating sensation.

"You're safe now . . . I won't let them get to you," he said.

He stroked from my crown down the length of my back. His nose nuzzled through my hair and into my neck. It tickled a little, but I loved how warm it made me feel inside.

The mattress shifted a little as he attempted to get closer to me.

It was a luxurious, billowy cloud we lay on. We sunk right into it and nothing felt better. Each muscle was relaxed, soothed and kind of tingly.

How was he doing that? Was it magic—this soft prickly feeling all over my skin? It seemed to intensify each time his lips brushed up against my neck or his hands glided across my bare arms.

"How are you here?" I asked, smiling.

This was it—paradise. My eyes stayed closed so the dream would keep going.

Or so heaven would be at my fingertips. I was dead, he was with me and nobody would ruin what we had.

"I found you. I've been looking for you for weeks. I tried to warn you they were coming after your family, but nobody knew where you went for your honeymoon."

My eyes flashed open in horror.

This was _not_ Harry!

"D-D-Draco?" I cried, jumping out of the bed.

I reached for the wand in my pocket but it was gone.

"Yeah . . . I . . . well, I . . ." His face was twisted with uncertainty, and he was holding his hands up in surrender.

My eyes flitted about the room, looking for anything, something I could bludgeon him to death with.

This was my chance; the opportunity I searched for.

And were his lips on my neck?

"You were touching me?" I accused, disgusted he would ever think that was okay. And . . . Why? _Why_ was he doing that?

I prowled around the room; he remained in the bed, eyes wide in concern. He made no move to stop me even though it was very obvious I was about to kill him. Or would the moment I found something worthy of obliterating him with.

"I . . . Oh, man," he snarled at himself, dragging his hands through his hair, pulling like he was yanking it out at the roots as his fingers passed. "Look, I know you're not going to believe me, but I'm trying to help you."

"I hate you! You killed my family!" _Maybe if you hadn't left them unprotected while you went on your honeymoon . . ._

In the corner of his closet I could make out something shiny at the back of the wardrobe. Was it an aluminum bat?

I lunged for it, but he was faster than I was, and had apparently grown several inches since the last time I saw him.

His long, lean, muscular legs were bare. He was dressed in his boxers and a white tee shirt.

This man was half naked in his bed with me, pretending we were intimate?

_Swaaaack!_

"You dared to touch me?" I screeched, smacking his face, pummeling his chest, kicking him over and over again, inflicting any damage I could.

Draco picked me up like I weighed nothing at all. It was odd I noticed tiny things like the muscles cording and stretching in his well toned forearms, the sensual sounding grunt as he picked me up and threw me in the middle of his velvety soft, disgustingly comfortable bed.

"Will you just listen to me for a second, daft woman?" His hands were flung into his hair again. He looked on the verge of crying.

I had never seen Draco like this, _ever_. He was always cold, calculating.

"No! You can have nothing to say I want to hear!" I hollered.

"I . . . I know you despise me and my family, but I didn't do it. I tried to stop that fire—both of them." He pulled the wand out of his pocket and lobbed it at me.

_Plick!_

It landed in the middle of the bed, a few inches from my hand.

I gawked at him. He was throwing me a weapon to take his head off and he knew it.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice breaking.

"If you want to kill me, do it," he challenged, "but run away as soon as you're done, otherwise you'll be traced and they'll kill you too."

"Death Eaters?" He was admitting this?

"Yes. Goyle's in charge, and he's hated you since . . . Well, since the boat . . . It's complicated," he stumbled on his words. He was insecure, tripping on his thoughts. His shoulders sagged forward in defeat.

"You hate me. You've hated me since the day we met," I accused. I knelt on the bed, picked up the wand and aimed at his gut, ready to blast him into oblivion.

"No, Ginny. It's not true. Harry I disliked, but it was because of you." He stepped closer, his palms open, beckoning me to come to him, even though he knew I would rather die at this point than come to him.

I scooted back, creating more distance.

What was he saying? This was insane. Was he saying it was like a boy pulling a girl's pigtails because he was crushing on her?

My hands shook so hard the wand's aim was faulty, but any moment I would do it. I would take a deep breath and end him. After that? Well, it didn't matter what happened to me. The Death Eaters could have me.

"I love you. I always did," he whimpered.

"Uuuuunfhh!" I inhaled swiftly, and got away from his as fast I could. In the process, I tumbled back off the bed.

I knocked my head into the wall, and could hear him coming after me, presumably to kill me since he caught me off guard by fibbing like that.

"You think this is a joke?" I shouted, and let loose. I hissed curse after curse, but Draco was gone. Apporated.

Seemed I wasn't the only one aware of how to use the most potent spells without a wand.

He was smart; I always knew that, but how he was aware of the awant ways I was unsure.

It was in my blood, in my veins—way back to the Druids that built Stonehenge.

They didn't need magic wands to lift those heavy blocks. It was risky and scary, but they called upon ancient bloodlines, cast spells by recalling the dead to help them.

It was my turn to do that now. My family—they would want to see this through. If I called on them to funnel their spiritual powers into me, they would help me.

Harry would refrain, since I was breaking my promises to him, but it was fine. I could explain to him when I was dead and at his side.

I ran out of Draco's place, uncertain of where to go, but the swirling black clouds chasing after me were obviously none other than Death Eaters out to find me.

Without a word, I apporated and disappeared from sight.

They'd trace me soon, so I did what I had to.

I landed myself straight into the one place they could never trace a living soul to.

_Splaaaaash!_

The cold water seized up my lungs. There was no telling if I could use my magic here or when the next boat would come by, so I began swimming.

_This was your plan? The Bermuda Triangle?_

"Hhhhh, hhhhh, hhhhhhuuuungh!" I struggled to move my arms and legs. It was so cold my bones were chilled the instant I was wet.

How long did it take those Titanic people to freeze in the water? Fifteen minutes?

A boat churned up the water within a few minutes, and I was spotted.

Shouts were echoed along the hull, and two men threw me a life ring and heaved me up onto the deck.

"Th-thanks," I croaked.

Breathing hurt. Living hurt.

My whole body shivered and shook.

I wondered if death might have been a better alternative.

"I'm Simon, this is Lawrence," the tall sandy blond one said.

His voice reminded me of the man I barely ran away from.

"I'm G-G-Ginnnnny," I said, teeth chattering.

"Yeah, I know. My cousin sent me to retrieve you," Simon said.

"C-cousin?" I asked, shocked.

"Yeah, Draco told me where you went, and I came after you." He threw up his hands exactly like Draco did not more than twenty minutes ago, acting like he was an innocent surrendering to a more powerful foe.

I glared at him and stumbled to my feet. My wand was already in the air, wavering between the two of them.

"Hey, relax. And so you know, that won't work here," Lawrence said. He pointed to the north. "Until we get about three yards in that direction. Then you can kill us, but until then . . . You might as well put that thing away while I get you a warm blanket and a nice cup of hot coffee to warm your chilled bones."

He left without a care in the world. I shoved the wand in my pocket but gave him a rather large berth.

"How did Draco know where I went?" I asked Lawrence.

"He knows pretty much everything about you. How do you think he knew about awant magic?"

I shrugged. "It's in the ancient books of the dead," I said.

"Yeah, and nobody has access to those, and even if they did, they're illegal. They've been missing for over a century."

"Oh, well, I . . . I didn't know. My mother taught me about them, so I just assumed . . ." I trailed off.

He shook his head in mock exasperation. "He told me how fiery you are, that your personality matched your pretty vibrant hair." He chuckled and leaned against the railing behind him. "His words—not mine." His relaxed stance with one leg crossed over the other like he was out on a relaxing cigarette break or maybe even out to whale-watch, set me at ease.

It would be comical if I didn't want to kill him since he scared me with his knowledge of awant ways and of me.

Simon returned, wrapped a wool blanket around my shoulders and passed me a steaming cup of coffee. I thanked him and took a sip. It was exactly what I needed.

"He's been pining over you for years, ya know?" Lawrence said. He fished in his coat and pulled out a small laminated book. He flipped it open and turned to the first page. Simon smirked next to me.

The object he held out was something he found humorous since he was still chuckling. Did Draco make this for him?

"Rule number one, she has a mean right hook. I know because she hit me once during Quidditch. Keep your distance." That made him really laugh.

I scowled. Why would Draco give this to him?

He turned to the second page. "She can be stubborn. Don't boss her around."

"Did he make this and give it to you?" I asked, glaring.

"Yeah. Call it an early Christmas present." He slipped it to the next page. Simon chuckled. "Oh, this one's my favorite. 'Don't talk about me. She hates my guts. I want her safe and happy.'"

A chill ripped up my spine and my hands were fisted, shaking with . . . _what_? Fear? Horror? Indignation? Worry? A little bit of . . . Dare I even consider—desire?

I shook my head back and forth as he continued to read on. But the list went from bad to worse in that it was now gushing about how wonderful I was—how I only wanted to right wrongs and it wasn't my fault I went after their family.

This guy—Simon—talked more about his cousin's feelings for me. He seemed unburdened by the fact I killed his aunt and uncle.

A feeling of devastating shame filled my gut, and suddenly I was vomiting over the side of the hull.

Moments later the warm, woolen blanket I dropped when I threw up, was wrapped once again around my shoulders.

Lawrence whispered behind my back to Simon, "She'll be fine."

I spent the next hour listening to them explain to me what happened to my family.

Draco left the Death Eaters the moment Harry killed Voldemort. He respected Harry and decided that even though he could never have me since I was eternally devoted to my husband, he would oppose us no longer.

His parents also felt the same.

And I murdered them in their sleep. I whispered the incantations while I stood at the foot of their bed. It cut off their oxygen, choked them while they dreamed of brighter, happier things.

And Draco had already forgiven me without hesitation.

He knew my knowledge was skewed. I had no way of knowing they reformed.

And as for Draco's wand being discovered at the scene? Well, Simon didn't know how that happened. He had some theories he refused to share, because he didn't want to make things worse.

The waves made my stomach lurch, or that's what I told them when I found myself retching again. This time I was over a toilet, and it happened right after they told me of the way Draco cried at their funeral. They mentioned something about a boat and Draco being in this exact same spot several summers ago, and how he fell in the water. I barely heard a word since my stomach was ridding itself of every drop of food and moisture.

It was all so heart wrenching and my soul felt punctured from their detailed description of his mourning.

I was unwilling to hear any more from them, so I got up and slowly padded my way to the deck.

"We'll be in Florida soon," Lawrence said in passing.

"Mmm . . ." I hummed. I hoped they'd keep quiet and stop sharing stuff with me about Draco.

Instead of looking at them, possibly encouraging them to speak, I stared out at the water.

Bermuda Triangle; the Devil's Triangle. Said to be the birthplace of the awantress; the first of us.

The irony of it all was nauseating. This was why Draco couldn't find us on our honeymoon. We were actually here, in this spot on a cruise heading to the Bahamas for our planned restful vacation. The boat was delayed a day since the instruments malfunctioned. I found it fascinating the way electronics were helpless in this area.

Harry was creeped out by it.

When we landed, he suggested we fly back home when we were done, even though we bought a cruise package. I hated flying, unless I was on a broom.

"I miss you, Harry," I whispered into the wind.

My hair suddenly whipped around into my face and blinded me.

I could barely breathe it was so strangling.

My fingers clawed it all off me, and I sighed the same sentiment: "I miss you. I miss being in your way when you—"

_Whhhhhoooosh!_

This time the wind slapped me in the face, my hair blinded me and a sudden up-swell of water drenched me.

When I wiped the ocean water off my eyes and had my sight back again , I looked around to see if it was one of them doing it.

But I was alone and we were still inside the triangle.

"_Stop it_," the wind hissed in a wispy, eerie way.

It was Harry. I could sense him.

He was talking to me.

"But I . . . What am I supposed to do?" I asked, looking around in the sky for some hint of him. If I could only see him, talk to him, I'd know what to do.

"Go to him," he said.

I gasped. My awant powers were growing stronger. He was _here_.

When I called on Fred's ghost to help me with the curse to kill Draco's parents, I was too weak, and my brother never appeared at my side. His aid was visible in the cloud above the Malfoys, sucking the air they breathed out of the room, but a vision of him was not to be had.

But this was it. The culmination of my powers would be visible before me. Harry was here—my loving husband. And he would show himself to me!

I whipped my head around and there on the deck was the spectral—a light airy image of him.

I reached out to touch him, and he was gone.

"I'm so sorry," a familiar, strong voice said behind me.

I turned.

"Draco . . . Did you see him? He was here," I said, my eyes darting around to find Harry.

"Yeah, I saw him too," he said.

When did . . . how did I miss Draco apparating?

I turned on Draco. "Why are you here?"

His hands were palm up in front of his chest again—a signal of surrender.

Why did he keep doing that?

"What do you want from me?" I asked, almost winded. Seeing Harry . . . I was flustered.

His eyes lit up, but he kept a straight face. "Did they tell you about when I fell in the water in this exact location?"

I nodded.

He took a deep breath and started, "I was staring at something shiny under the water. I didn't know what it was. When I leaned over to get a better look, well, my wand was in my hand and it hit the tip of the water."

_And?_

He could see I was impatient, not in the mood to listen to bed-time stories. "This place . . . it's a reality leak."

"_Excuse me_?"

He sucked in a breath and looked down at the ground, measuring his next words carefully. "Do you believe in alternate realities?"

"No." Why would I?

"If there's real magic in this world, couldn't it be a possibility?" His eyes shifted from the floor to my face, and he smiled but it was shy, unexpected.

"I suppose . . ." I trailed off.

"I want to show you what I saw," he said, grabbing his wand in one hand and extending his other palm out for me to take.

"Will it hurt?"

"No. But you need to hold on real tight to me, because I'm not exactly sure, but I think it's probably similar to apparating," he explained.

I inhaled deeply, nervous to get close to him, but I did it—I took his hand.

He brought me to the edge of the boat, and the second the tip of his wand made contact with the water we were sucked in. Our bodies spun, and we turned into long streaks of light blurring and whizzing through the water.

When we came to, we were completely dry, and on land in a recognizable place.

We were in London—in front of my flat.

"Go ahead . . . knock," he encouraged, putting a hand on my lower back and propelling me forward.

I stared at him in disbelief, begging him to reassure me.

He chuckled and knocked for me.

The door swung open, and I was greeted by . . . _me_!

"Oh my gosh! You actually got her to come here!" the alternate me squealed with delight.

I backed away, tripped and fell, skinning my knees and palms. She came toward me, and since I was afraid of casting spells at her, worried I'd kill myself, I got up and ran.

There was no way to know which way to go, because this wasn't real. It couldn't be.

Before I was halfway down the block, she apparated in front of me.

"Ahhhh, get away!" I shrieked, and ran off to the right.

Then Draco was before me, blocking me. He didn't apparate; ran quickly and somehow knew where I'd go next. I turned to the left, and the other me was there again.

It didn't seem to matter which way I went—they were always there hedging me in.

So I had only one option left. I tried to apparate, but an unseen force seemed to be holding me down, keeping me in place.

I curled up in a ball and cried, muttering, pleading for Harry to help me beyond the grave.

"Why didn't you explain to her about this place before bringing her here?" my own voice scolded Draco.

"I didn't think she'd believe me," he answered.

Gentle hands lifted me, and he carried me as I buried my face in his chest.

The smell—like his home—was so comforting and alluring.

I hated myself for liking it.

He rested his chin on my head, keeping me tucked up under his jaw. Safe. Protected.

_No! He's the enemy!_

I bit back a cry of anguish. If Harry was here he would kill me himself for allowing Draco to hold me.

A few minutes later, he was resting on a couch with me in his lap. I stayed nestled in his chest. If I went back to sleep it would end.

"Maybe you better bring him out here," Draco suggested.

Who? Harry?

My head popped up, and I looked around, wide-eyed. I gripped into his arms, anticipating his arrival.

My husband!

"She's here," I heard myself say from the other room.

I blinked quickly, so I could keep my eyes open when he appeared. No way was I going to miss a second of it.

A moment later, another Draco appeared, and my heart that was leaping about a moment ago, sank.

"It's not what you think," the Draco I was sitting on said.

I wanted to blame him for giving me hope, for making me believe I could be happy again.

The new Draco stared at me. "She's really been through hell, hasn't she?" he asked the other me.

I was crazy—officially a loon.

"You better explain before she loses it," she said.

He walked in front of me, and I picked apart every inch of him.

I always thought of my Draco as long, lanky and skinny. Repellent.

But this Draco before me, identical in every way, yet a stranger, had power in his stance. His muscles, though understated were well defined, and he was all man.

His strong jawline was sexy, and kissable. He looked at me with genuine concern, and I saw . . . _love_?

Why was he looking at me that way?

He grabbed her to his side, keeping his eyes on me. And then I saw a glint of metal on her finger.

Married?

He took her hand in his, and then kissed her on the mouth!

I gasped.

"Just wait . . . Listen for ten minutes, and if you want to go after that, we'll leave," the Draco behind me said. He kept a gentle grip around my waist. Most likely he kept his hands there to keep me from taking off.

I nodded; barely aware I was doing it.

The kissing couple both turned their attention to me. "This is what it's supposed to be like," he said.

I swallowed. "What are you talking about?" My shaking voice was faint and filled with dread. I knew exactly what he was going to say, and I didn't want to hear it.

"Did you ever wonder where magic came from?" he asked.

"No." Okay, not what I anticipated. I released the tense breath I didn't realize I was holding.

He laughed. "Of course you have. Everybody has."

What was I supposed to say to that?

He took a seat, and she sat right next to him. She was scratching and rubbing his back in a loving way I used to do for Harry. No, no, no! They are not married!

"It came from here. A witch by the name of Ella Montgomery found the reality leak, and it brought her to your world. She found herself floating in the Bermuda triangle, and even though her powers were weaker in your sphere, she chose to stay there, but only after she brought the rest of her family back with her," he explained.

"Okaaaaay," I drawled. "That's good to know, but what does this have to do with me—with Draco? I mean my," Draco stiffened beneath me, so I corrected myself, "this Draco that brought me here."

His breath caught right next to my ear, giving me goose bumps down my neck.

I found his hand at my waist and squeezed it in a friendly gesture to let him know it was okay; I didn't mean anything by calling him mine. He wasn't _mine_.

The Draco across from me smiled. But it wasn't smug, patronizing or even menacing. This Draco was the polar opposite of the one I went to school with.

And I really liked him.

It made me wish the Draco beneath me was _this_ guy.

_Maybe he is . . ._

I blanched at the thought that the Draco I knew could have been misunderstood all this time. But according to all the information I had received over the last twenty-four hours, he _was_ this guy. The nice one with a sweet smile, an endearing laugh and a kissable jaw.

What the hell was the matter with me?

I suddenly pushed off him, standing, ready to leave.

"I have to go," I said, panicked.

Both Draco's stood and they both put their arms in the air, in that surrender way that seemed instinctive for them.

The other Ginny rose, and stood, then pushed her husband out of the way.

"Let me try," she offered.

They stepped aside, and even gave us some privacy by walking several feet away, hovering near the kitchen entry.

"I know this is really confusing, but I have to tell you . . ." she paused to gaze at her husband and there was so much adoration in her eyes I was flabbergasted ". . . I really love that man, you know?"

I shook my head.

She barked an amused laugh. "No, I suppose you don't."

My breath was coming in ragged, shallow spurts now. What was I doing here?

This home was lovely, warm and inviting. I was at peace, or would be if I allowed myself.

"This is so _wrong_," I mumbled, shaking my head to myself. I couldn't look at her, so I cast my gaze downward.

"Ginny . . . You think you're right. You always do. I know, because I'm you, but I'm telling you, you're wrong this time, wrong about him. Listen to me; I'm a much happier version of you." She rubbed her belly.

"Oh _nooooo_," I groaned.

"Yes, we're a family." She motioned toward her Draco. "I know Harry, and I like him. He's a great friend to both Draco and me, but he's not _my_ Draco," she said. "I'm not in love with Harry."

I stepped back and put one foot behind the other. She followed after me, voice soft. "Think about it—you don't feel right. You never have. Something was missing."

I whimpered. "How did you . . . ?"

"I told you—I'm you, but the happier, fulfilled you. Your Draco told me how he felt, how things seemed impossible between the two of you. That was years ago when he told me. I tried to tell him then what to do to win you over, but you were so stubborn."

"And that Harry—" her husband interjected, but she shushed him.

"Yes, he poisoned her with his opinions, but that Draco right there was guilty too." She pointed at my Draco. "He followed his dad, but that's . . ." Now she trailed off.

"He what? What did Lucius do?" I asked.

For some morbid reason, I wanted to know. _No_, I _had_ to know!

"In this world, the _right_ reality," she smiled and chuckled, "Lucius was a muggle."

"_Was_?" My eyes went wide.

"He learned the art of magic, and he's a decent wizard, but he was very different from the Lucius you knew. He taught my Draco to be accepting and tolerant of everybody since he had once been in the minority here." She shrugged.

"Minority? What do you mean?"

She sighed, but it was a happy sound. "Most of this world is populated with witches and wizards. Muggles aren't very prolific here. They have their place, but most of them convert to wizardry."

"And what if one of our muggles jumps into the ocean in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle? What would your people do to them if that happened?"

"It's impossible. The only way to come back here is to have a wand, and press it into the entrance."

I looked over at my Draco. He smiled, and it was wistful. He was talking to himself. This was so bizarre.

"And am I going to slowly disappear into nothing since I'm destroying the fabric of time by talking to you?" I asked.

"No. It doesn't work like that. If you stayed here, it might confuse some people, but we can occupy the same world, because you're protected. When you come to our world, there's almost a bubble surrounding you. It's why you can't apparate," she explained.

My head hurt. It was all so mind-blowing.

"Give him a chance. He loves you so much, he's hurting. He doesn't know what else to do to get you to believe him. I never thought he'd bring you here, or you'd allow it, but . . ." She looked at him again and placed her palm on her belly. "He's an amazing man. He'll never treat you like anything less than a goddess." She simply glowed.

I swallowed. There were butterflies in my stomach now—they were on fire. That fire traced up my chest and spread. The deep blue in his penetrating gaze was smoldering.

What the . . . ?

"Yeah . . . He looks at you like that any time he thinks you're distracted," she said.

"He does?" I asked, surprised. I wasn't distracted now, and he was being blatant about it.

She pushed me toward him. "I think he's tired of pretending. Just talk to him. Go home. Tell him what a jerk you thought he was. He'll explain it all. You might be shocked at how everything he did was really to impress you."

I snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure he did."

She yanked me back to facing her. "Look, I know you're confused, but don't you ever doubt that man. He's more honest than that stupid Har—"

My Draco raced over to me, placed an arm around me, and in a caring tone, he told her, "Thank you, but I think we should get back."

I craned my head over my shoulder and watched her as we left.

My brain held onto and tried to memorize every little detail of their happy home.

They were kissing again when we stepped out the front door.

Draco led me to the underground station, and we stepped out onto the tracks.

Alarms blasted in warning, letting authorities know we were in a dangerous position.

"Don't be afraid. I'll always keep you safe," he said, and then he pulled out his wand, pointed it at a train heading straight for us. He muttered awant spells, calling on his parents to help transport us back. Apparently awant powers were needed for this trip. I joined him in asking for my parents, Harry and my brother's help as well.

The train got closer and closer; my whole body was rigid, my stomach churning like rocks were loaded inside it, and my throat was burning dry. Sweat poured down my back.

_Please, don't let us die, Draco . . ._

"Aaaaaa_hhhhhh_," I screamed, my voice escalating, going shrill right before impact. But instead of getting hit, we were flung like a rubber band being shot at somebody. With a whoosh of wind, misting us with moisture, we were suddenly back on the boat.

I gasped, and wavered on my feet, gaining my balance back.

He braced me with an arm around my waist. "I have no idea why it's so much faster coming back home." The smile in his voice was so playful, I smacked him in the stomach, and smiled through a pretend scowl.

"They were happy," I stated, recalling the look in that couples eyes; in the other Ginny's whole presence and demeanor. I wanted that—all of it.

"They _are_ happy. Happier than any couple I've ever known," he breathed. That smile before me was lighting me up.

I almost wanted to go back now that I was returned to where I came from. Did I really have anything keeping me here? My family was gone.

"Where have you been my whole life?" I asked in awe. Everything about him seemed different—intriguing. He was a virtual stranger.

I reached out and cupped his jaw. His eyelids went heavy, and that heated look was back. "Do you know how long I've wished you would touch me at all? And now we're here . . . and you're touching me on your own." He took a deep inhale and breathed, "Ginny . . ."

I sighed. "I still love Harry, so I don't know how—"

"I know, and I don't plan to ever replace him in here," he said, placing his palm over my heart.

I glanced down at my rapidly beating heart. His touch . . . my world shifted in that small moment.

When my eyes met his again, he leaned toward me, but made no other motion to kiss me.

Without thinking, I pressed my lips to his.

Warm, a little rough, but so strong—his lips were perfect.

These were not little tentative kisses of a man hesitant to kiss, to take; worried about hurting me.

Harry was always nervous about that stuff.

It never concerned me—in fact it kind of irritated me that he was so light with his touch.

I wanted to be taken, to be an inch away from being ravaged.

The passion was always restrained. Not with Draco. He was pressing, pulling, devouring.

My whole body coiled, and I wrapped around him so tight he could never let me go.

He moaned, and a shot of pure lust dropped into my belly then made my heart clench.

This was real. Draco really wanted me?

But why?

"You feel so good," he groaned, between kisses. "This is right," he assured me, nodding his head, nipping, sucking at my neck, and holding me so tight I could barely breathe.

"But I . . ." My brain was screaming to get away even though my body overpowered me, forcing me to grip into him and kiss him back.

The fierceness of his lips, the strength in his arms made my legs weak. I could barely stand.

When I thought I might pass out, he sat down, and pulled me into a straddle over his lap. He smoothed my hair out of my face and stared deeply into my eyes. "So many questions. I can see it in your eyes."

I tried to smile, but it failed to happen. Old habits of grimacing at him wanted to resurface. Before I could do something stupid, like force him to kiss me again, I asked the first question that popped into my head, "What will the rest of your family think? Your friends?"

He smiled and it was wicked and filled with joy. "Are you saying you'll give me a chance?"

Oh no—that _was_ what I just insinuated. Was _I _giving him a chance?

_Yes, go to him_, Harry's voice echoed in my head.

"I . . . Oh, I don't know. I'm so confused. This feels right in so many ways, and I even think Harry approves, although why he ever would I have no idea. Maybe I'm insane," I offered as the only plausible explanation.

He chuckled, and pulled one of my hands up to his lips. His gentle, but singe of a kiss, made my breath leave my body. How was this guy I used to think gangly and sallow looking so intoxicating and nothing short of sexy?

There was a fire in his eyes and a steadiness in his gaze that told of years' worth of longing.

It melted my insides.

"When you look at me like that," I started then thought better.

"Like what? Like you're my world?"

I nodded.

"What does it do to you, Ginny?" he asked, a devilish grin poking fun at me.

"I . . . why is this so hard?" I groaned, frustrated.

He kissed my hand again. "Nothing worth having is ever easy."

I snorted a laugh. That was definitely my experience. "Did it hurt you when I married Harry?"

He shied away from my gaze, looking over my shoulder, staring blankly at nothing at all. "I was happy that you found a life you wanted. All I ever wanted was for you to be safe and happy."

I gripped his jaw and turned him to look back at me. "I hurt you, didn't I?"

"You didn't do it on purpose, and that helped me get through it."

"And what did you do the night I married?"

He huffed a regretful type of laugh. "I had my own party."

"What kind?"

"The kind that involves a lot of liquor and alone time," he said. "But then I realized you needed him."

Did I? Did I really need Harry? Or was he convenient? Maybe I didn't know any better because he was always before me. And who else was my family going to let me date? My brothers hated it in school when I dated, and I had needs, dammit. So I . . .

"Oh no . . . I loved him, I did, but you . . . But I . . ." I shook my head vehemently. No! "Poor Harry!" I cried, mortified with myself.

"Shhhh . . . Ginny, don't do that to yourself. If I hadn't ever fallen into that water, I would have done the same thing. I would have gone with whatever girl my parents approved of, and thought I loved her, and would have been relatively happy."

"Is that not enough for you now?" I asked.

"Never. It never was, but when I had no other reason to go after you, and even consider you could ever . . ." He was breathless.

I leaned forward and scooted down into his lap. He let me curl into a ball and grip at his shirt.

"I think we need to stay on this boat tonight, and stay in the Triangle."

"You do?" His voice broke, and he shifted under me a little. He was definitely interested, and the thought aroused him.

"Yep. You, me, the Triangle, and send your cousins overboard. We need to find what we were meant to—each other," I said.

Nothing ever felt so right or so wrong.

I sighed.

"I love you," he said.

I looked up at him. "I can tell that you do. I wish I could say it back, but I'm not ready." I smiled weakly. "And I thought you might like to know . . ."

"Hmmm?" He ran his hands up my back and they tangled in my hair, tugging a little at the ends, playfully. He seemed fine with my inability to return the words. Maybe he was pleased to simply have me in his arms for now?

"She told me that you're the best husband ever. And I think she meant not just as a provider but as a . . ." Could I say it? ". . . lover."

He chuckled. "Well, I don't know about that, but I definitely have a problem keeping my hands and lips off you. I don't know if I'll be able to stop if you let me . . ."

I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed.

"I think I'm willing to take that risk, Draco. Now kiss me," I said.

He did. And all of my awant training came down on me. I heard voices . . .

Harry whispered to my mind, "I'm happy for you. Let me go, sweetheart. Allow yourself to love."

Then my parents: "Draco's a good man. We forgive his family for forcing him to be one of them. He's not a Death Eater. He'll protect you . . ."

Last was Fred with his voice carrying on the wind. "Found yourself somebody to snog, have you? Well, wear lip balm, 'cause that bloke's lips are always chapped and dry like his sense of humor."

Draco laughed.

"It's true," he said.

My eyebrow rose up in question. "You heard that?"

"Yes . . . Listen to what my parents have to say," he answered.

"When we left you and our breath was gone . . . we understood how we wronged you. She helped us by freeing our minds. Be happy, son. Love her, and be kind to everybody around you. There is no separation of muggles and magic here. All are the same—we are as one. You do the same," they said.

Tears came to my eyes, and then their final words were what threw me over into hysterical weeping with fits of joyous laughter. "We forgive you and love you, Ginny. You are our daughter. You will always be the best thing for Draco. Love him. Marry him," they proposed to me.

"Yes," I told Draco through sobbing gasps.

He smiled, kissed my empty ring finger and told me he loved me.

My body, heart, and mind never knew such delectable pleasure and joy until I surrendered myself to him—my other half. The one I _chose_.

We went back to the cabin, to his room, where we kissed and snuggled the rest of the night until we fell asleep in each other's arms, in the comfort of his bed.

But I awoke later filled with hatred for myself yet again.

I broke my promises to Harry—all of them. My third vow haunted me the worst: I would never love or marry again.

"Break it," Harry spoke to my heart.

Tears poured down my cheeks.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Draco cooed, drying my tears. I woke him without realizing it. He kissed my forehead and looked at me with sweet concern.

"I love you," I said.

I smiled, placed one hand over my heart and the other hand over his, and then I gave myself over completely once more to Draco, released from my guilty thoughts.

Oh how I broke that promise again and again with my body under Draco's until all I could feel was bliss and a rightness in this world I couldn't attain any other way. I found who I was in the triangle of my leaky reality. I found what it meant to be me.

**THE END**

**A/N:**

I apologize for being late with my FAGE4 entry. I totally forgot about this project since I got busy editing and rewriting my original work of fiction, _Canopy_, that I'll be publishing on the 25th of this month. If you're interested in seeing what I'm doing (since I have many, many original works I'll be publishing in the future; _Canopy_ itself is a 6 book series) then go to:

crystalleeauthor . com (remove spaces)

Twitter: CLeeAuthor

Facebook: Crystal Lee Author

This was written for Leni (Linara Philips). These are the prompts I worked with:

Canon in all fandoms, except for Buffy/Spike, Cordelia/Angel, and _Ginny/Harry. _

Obviously, I went with non-canon Ginny and chose Draco instead of Harry. I really hope that doesn't bother her. I know some people can't even begin to entertain the thought of Harry or Ginny being with anybody else, but I dare to consider the possibilities. There's always something sexy about the bad guy. I mean, who didn't cry when they found out what Snape's deal was, and that he had an undying love for Lily? I was touched. Draco has some dark secret somewhere too, and this was one possibility that I wrote.

The rest of the prompt I worked with was: a.) There were three things she had once sworn she would never do. Long after she'd broken that promise twice, she never thought that one day she would be fighting so hard not to do the third one.

_Prompts a) and b) can have the character's gender and tense changed. They do *not* need to be included verbatim in the story._

Well, thank goodness, since I think I probably failed to meet all of those requirements. :D

Happy Father's day, even though most of my readers here are probably the opposite gender. Doesn't mean we can't celebrate with some light reading…

Thanks for reading,

Crystal


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